


i'll be there for you

by besidemethewholedamntime



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Date, Fluff, Geminids Exchange, Non-SHIELD AU, happy endings, taking care of the other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besidemethewholedamntime/pseuds/besidemethewholedamntime
Summary: "She tries to stand up in order to put on her coat but as she does the world suddenly tilts and she stumbles, ungracefully grabbing at the table in order to remain standing. The cutlery jumps, and her water spills over her glass. Fitz is immediately by her side, hand gently on her elbow as he keeps her steady."On a blind date with Fitz, Jemma suddenly becomes unwell and has to leave. On the car journey home they get to know each other. A Geminids exchange gift!
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69





	i'll be there for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TomatoBookworm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomatoBookworm/gifts).



> Hello! Here's your gift, TomatoBookworm, for the Geminids exchange. I hope you like it. I went for Fitzsimmons and taking care of each other and date night. It's just fluffy and has a happy ending and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The title is from 'I'll Be There For You' by The Rembrandts :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you quite alright?”

Jemma looks across the table at her blind date, who peers at her with concern. She wants to feel affronted, before realising that she’s breathing awfully hard with her hand clutched to her chest, and the reason he’s just asked may have something to do with the fact that she’s just coughed non-stop for two minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

“I’ll be fine.” She goes to take a sip of water. “Thank you.”

He looks doubtful. “Are you sure?”

She can understand his concern. Her face feels as though it’s on fire and she’s sure red cheeks and glassy eyes are making an appearance. Yesterday she only had a cold, if it could even be called that. A sniffle. Throughout the day she’s gotten steadily worse to the point where their starters have only just been cleared and she’s feeling like death has suitably warmed over.

“On second thought, perhaps it is best that we give up for tonight.” She tries to smile at her date, who it has to be said is looking awfully handsome. Usually she doesn’t trust Hunter’s recommendation for dates, most of them being as animal as him, but this one seems different. A good kind of different.

“Of course.” He smiles at her, putting up his hand to signal for the bill. She goes to get out her purse and he waves her away.

“Fitz, no. I can’t let you do that. I’m cancelling barely twenty minutes in.”

“You’re ill,” he says. “And you shouldn’t have to pay when you could barely eat it.”

“All the same…”

But the waiter has already brought the bill on a silver tray that makes the world spin when Jemma looks at it and she concedes to letting Fitz pay right now, and promises herself that she’ll pay him back.

She tries to stand up in order to put on her coat but as she does the world suddenly tilts and she stumbles, ungracefully grabbing at the table in order to remain standing. The cutlery jumps, and her water spills over her glass. Fitz is immediately by her side, hand gently on her elbow as he keeps her steady.

“Oops,” she laughs weakly. “I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Fitz takes her coat and holds it while she fumbles with the arms. When her head clears, she’s sure the embarrassment will set in, but for now she can’t bring herself to care. “Did you drive here?”

“Yes. Of course, I did.” She sees his face, or most of it anyway, looking horrified. “Don’t look at me like that,” she tells him indignantly. “I was feeling well enough to earlier on.”

“So, it’s just when you saw me then, eh?”

This Fitz is quite funny, and she wishes she didn’t feel so ill so she could have had a chance to get to know him better. Trust this to be the time that Hunter actually picked someone half decent for her to have a date with.

“Must have been,” she manages, before a coughing fit takes her breath away.

Fitz’s concerned frown only deepens. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Jemma resists. “You could be an axe-murderer.”

He looks mildly amused. His eyes are like the colour of the sky, she notes. She wishes she could bottle the colour. She would make a fortune. “I promise you I’m not.”

“That is exactly what an axe-murderer would say.”

“Letting you drive home by yourself would save me the trouble of murdering you,” he remarks, gently taking her shoulders, leaving her free to resist again if she wants to. God, she wishes her head didn’t feel like the inside of a washing machine on turbo.

“Oh alright,” she relents, partly because she truly doesn’t think he’s an axe-murderer, and partly because she already feels like death anyway. “But I’m phoning Hunter to let him know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s just the type you want in an emergency.” But he pulls out his phone and brings up Hunter. “Here, have at it. You wait here and I’ll go and bring the car round.”

She didn’t even realise they’d made it outside the restaurant. It’s dark and the brightness on Fitz’s phone only intensifies her headache. She presses call.

It lasts around a minute and a half, the first thirty seconds of which were Hunter laughing uproariously at the thought of Fitz being any kind of murderer, never mind of the axe variety because his aim is appalling. Then he tells her to feel better, that he’ll pop in on her tomorrow, and to try not throw up in Fitz’s car because it wouldn’t make a good ending for their date, to which Jemma would have rolled her eyes if she could have without almost falling over. Fitz has to take her home because she can’t see straight and not for any of the fun reasons – nothing in this date qualifies as good.

“Hunter know that you’re alright?”

She’s busy staring at Fitz’s phone screen. His screensaver is of him and an older woman, with the same sky-blue eye and soft smile. “Is this your mum?”

He doesn’t snatch the phone back, but his hand reaches out in a flash, before he gently takes the phone from her unresisting fingers.

“You look like her,” Jemma says, feeling like she may have crossed a line with a man she doesn’t know.

Fitz stuffs the phone back in his pocket, taking her elbow and helping her stand up. Stand up? She hadn’t even realised she was sitting down.

“Yeah, it’s my mum.” He leads her to where his car is waiting, all warm and inviting. “Most people say I look like my dad.”

“Oh.” She leans back in the soft leather seats, closing her eyes. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s just a thing.” His voice is different, strained, but he’s trying and he’s been so nice so she tries too and says no more about it. Fitz shuts her door so gently that she wouldn’t even know it had the draught not disappeared.

“Your address?” His voice has changed direction, the driver’s seat now. She would open her eyes to have a look but the spinning world makes her feel sick and she really doesn’t want to be sick in his car. It’s nothing fancy but it’s ever so clean inside, and he has an air-freshener hung up on the rear-view mirror that smells like clean cotton. It’s warm, soft, and rather what she imagines the inside of a tumble dryer is like, complete with the spinning and all.

She warbles her address, hearing him tapping it into the SatNav. She feels the car start to move and the constant movement could send her to sleep but as lovely as Fitz has been, falling asleep might be too far. With the wave of nausea having passed, she opens her eyes. The car is awfully low down than it looked from the outside, and it’s uncomfortably too long before she realises that it’s just because she’s slumped down in her seat, probably showcasing several chins while she’s as it.

“I’m sorry, Fitz,” she sighs, sitting up and leaning against the cool window instead.

He glances quickly over. “Don’t be.”

“I feel horrible.” Both physically and mentally but she figures there’s no need to say it. “I hate feeling like I’ve wasted your time.”

“You didn’t,” he laughs, watching the road. “Trust me, I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Hunter tells me that you’re an engineer.”

“I am. But that’s kind of all I do.” She watches him, and he wonders if he can feel her puffy eyes on his face. He still doesn’t look at her. “I don’t have many hobbies.”

“You don’t?”

“I have boring things, I suppose. I like to read, like to design. I can cook, but the only people that eat it are me or the dog.”

“And are you looking for something more?”

She doesn’t know what posses her to ask it while she’s semi-conscious in his car, when there’s a very good chance that the answer won’t matter to her either way. He intrigues her, this man who seems like someone Hunter wouldn’t know. Maybe it’s the cold she’s dying of currently, or maybe it’s something else, but strangely she doesn’t want this car journey to end.

“Yeah.” One hand scrubs down his face. “I guess. I dunno. Something more could be nice.”

Something more. Had he come here tonight hoping that she could be that something more? Perhaps it’s better than it’s ending now. Something tells her it would be unbearable to disappoint him.

It’s a lot of thinking for her muddled brain and she steers the conversation back to shallow waters. “What’s your dog called?”

Fitz laughs. “He’s called Ben. He’s a spaniel.”

“I like spaniels,” she murmurs.

“Then you’d like Ben. He’s adorable.”

 _What if this didn’t have to be the end of it?_ While it hasn’t been the most promising of beginnings, maybe this doesn’t have to be the end? Her and Fitz could be friends, couldn’t they? He could make her dinner and she could meet his dog. These fever dreams float through her head and she does nothing to discourage them.

“What are you smiling about?”

She opens her eyes. They’ve stopped at a traffic light and Fitz’s face glows red. He must think she’s a right idiot.

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “I’m just, uh, you know, thinking about things. A cold does that to you, sometimes. Makes you think about strange things.”

“Ah.” The light turns green and his attention goes back to the road. “Can’t say I’ve ever experienced it.”

“I’m not usually like this, you know,” she bursts out, eager to make him understand. “I’m coming across as a lot stranger than I am.”

“I don’t know about that.” There’s a twinkle in his eye. “Hunter said you were pretty strange.”

“Did he?” _Oh that absolute ba-_ She takes a deep breath. “Well, he can talk, can’t he? I once saw him put tuna on pizza. He has no right to be calling someone strange when he’s doing that.”

Fitz’s face screws up in apparent disgust. “Aw, did he? That’s disgusting. You’re right. He’s the weirdo.”

They’re silent for a minute, Fitz concentrating on the roundabout ahead. When they’re safely over, he tells her, “I don’t think you’re strange.”

She blinks at him. “You don’t?”

“No. I mean I don’t know you very well, but I don’t think you’re strange based on tonight. You’re not well. I don’t judge you for it.”

“What a relief,” she says and finds that, actually, it is somewhat a relief. “I think you’re very nice.”

“Really?” The surprise in his voice surprises her. “Why?”

“You’re taking me home when I almost threw up all over your dinner and you don’t even seem to mind that much. That’s nice, Fitz.”

He shrugs. “Just seems decent.”

She laughs incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Nah, not quite. But I mean any decent person would offer.”

“In case it’s escaped your notice, there aren’t many decent people out there.”

“It hasn’t.” His voice shifts, becomes the way it was earlier. “That’s why I like dogs.”

She nods. “That’s why I like science.”

“You’re a scientist?”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Did we not cover this earlier?”

“No, we didn’t get that far,” he says and she wonders how out of it she was. Sitting here, in this warm car, her head feels a bit clearer.

“Oh.” Her cheeks burn. “I’m sorry. Yes. Pharmacology and drug discovery and things.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

It sounds like he genuinely finds it to be so and her heart feels warm. “Yes, it is. It’s complex but also simple in a way. You don’t have to gauge human emotions and try to play to people’s sensibilities. Reaction pathways and feedback loops are what they are and do what they do, no matter what people think of it.”

“That’s why I like engineering.” He’s indicating to turn right and is watching the road intently, giving her an opportunity to study his face once again. It’s amazing how expressive it is. She doesn’t think she could tire of watching it. “Forces and bearings and equations are all the same, really. It works or it doesn’t.”

“Yes,” she says, smiling. They’re about two streets away from her flat now and she wishes they had more time. “Exactly that.”

They pull up outside her door and, as much as when she first arrived in the restaurant she wanted nothing more than her bed, now she finds she doesn’t want to get out of the car. Her stomach drops like a lead balloon, and it’s not the sign of imminent vomiting, but something else, something more.

She goes to open her door but Fitz is out and round and opening it for her before she even has her seatbelt undone. He holds out his arm.

“Need a hand?”

“Yes,” she smiles even though she feels a little bit sad. “Please.”

Gingerly she gets out of the car, the change in height making her feel unsteady on her feet again and she’s thankful for Fitz by her side. It takes them a while, but eventually they manage to make it to the second floor, and under her instruction he fishes the keys from her handbag and unlocks the door before helping her to the sofa.

“Are you alright?” He asks once she’s sat down.

“Um…” her reply is shaky. Stars float around her field of vision and the berry scented diffuser that she so loved when she bought it yesterday amplifies her nausea by tenfold.

“Where’s your kitchen?” Fitz asks, already looing around. “I’ll get you some water.”

 _Thank goodness I cleaned_ is what she thinks while gesturing vaguely in the direction of it. Not that her kitchen is ever _unclean_ but all the same… the last thing she’d want is someone judging her for dust.

It seems like he’s only gone a second and then he returns with a glass of water that she accepts gratefully. “Thank you,” she breathes. “That’s much better.”

Fitz has been rather confident all night, or sure of himself at least. Now he shuffles awkwardly from side to side and she braces herself for what’s to come.

“I’m uh… I’ll let you get some rest now.”

She nods. “Okay. Thank you. Sorry for ruining your night.”

He rolls his eyes but smiles. “You didn’t ruin my night, Jemma. I promise you that.”

She doesn’t entirely believe him but she’ll accept it for now. She leans back against the sofa, letting her head sink into the cushions. “It was really lovely to meet you, Fitz. Thank you for being so kind.”

He ducks his head but she sees a slight simple. “It was no bother.” She goes to get up but he waves her away. “I’ll see myself out.”

Her head swims and so she’s just able to nod, telling herself that the sinking feeling is due to illness as she hears his footsteps recede across the laminate floor. Then, just as he’s almost out the door, she bolts up.

“Fitz! Wait!” She stood up too fast and when her vision clears Fitz is standing half out the door, confusion on his face.

“What is it?”

“The money. I forgot to pay for my half of dinner. Two minutes and I’ll get my purse.”

“It’s fine.” He waves away her offer once more. “You can pay for the next one.” And with a cheeky grin on his face, he’s gone.

She sits down on the couch, a similar sort of grin on her own face. _The next one._ Perhaps he wasn’t totally put off by her phlegm. There’s so much she’d like to over-analyse and dissect but there’s only enough energy in her to half-crawl to her bedroom and into a pair of pyjamas, and to text Hunter that she got home alive, before she falls asleep.

-x-

In the morning, with her mouth feeling like cotton wool and her head ridiculously heavy, she sees she has an expected reply.

_Kept the best til last – thought you’d appreciate him more that way. I expect to be Maid of Honour._

And one of the unexpected variety.

_Ben says he hopes you’re feeling better this morning, and also asks if you’d like to go to the park sometime? Fitz might be there too_

She smiles softly, feeling herself glow, and hugs the phone to her chest before rolling over and falling back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading - I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave kudos/comments. Please feel free not to. Either way, I hope you have a lovely day!


End file.
